


Lost Tomorrows

by GlitterCake20



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon, Recovery, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 15:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16244063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterCake20/pseuds/GlitterCake20
Summary: After all this, Bucky has no idea who he is, yet again. There’s not even the slightest recollection of their time together, of the times he told Steve he has beautiful eyes, the times all they had to hold on to were each other.





	Lost Tomorrows

 

Steve didn't expect his entire world could - for a second time - crumble further than it did when he saw Bucky dissipate into nothingness. But in an unbelievable moment he realises it is absolutely possible. It’s terrifying and heart wrenching as he listens to the doctor give a final summary of her findings. A summary of Buck’s CAT scan. Supposedly, what she’s saying is meant to explain why Bucky looks at him with empty eyes, it’s supposed to explain why his first words to Steve after the resurrection was: “who are you?”

 

Words that still run like acid through his brain. After all these years. All the battles and the tears, the hurt and all their almost happily-ever-afters. After all this, Bucky has no idea who he is, yet again. There’s not even the slightest recollection of their time together, of the times he told Steve he has beautiful eyes, the times all they had to hold on to were each other. Bucky doesn't remember him, or anybody for that matter, and they have no idea how far back the erasure goes since Bucky is reluctant to talk.

 

The doctor explains kindly, “The basics of it is that it’s a mental shut down. It appears the snap wiped what was left in Mr. Barnes’ mind. To what point, I’m not certain as there are prime motor skills present, use of limbs and speech, although reserved.”

 

“But Parker… he’s fine.” Steve argues, futile, “And Sam? He knows me?”

 

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes has suffered a _significant_ amount of trauma.” she presses out the word ‘significant’ to get the point across, and Steve is aware that it seems he’s not understanding. Maybe he doesn't want to. She carries on, “The extinction process, the resurrection… Mr Barnes was conscious throughout all of it, they all were, and while not physically present, he was still very well aware. Taking into account his history and brain alterations by HYDRA, it was just...”

 

“Too much.” Steve mumbles.

 

The doctor nods, “The straw that broke the camel's back, if you will.”

 

He looks over at Buck, just staring down at his arm, playing with the metal fingers that he has no memory of acquiring. Steve thinks perhaps that’s not the worst thing in the world.

 

“I’m sorry Mr. Rogers. I need to release him today, we unfortunately can’t house him here. Does he…”

 

Steve cuts her off, “No. It’s just me. Just us.” He glances out to Sam in the hallway. Sam who greets everyone, smiling, happy to be back. And then there’s Bucky who has lost 90% of his mind.

 

They send Buck home with Steve, make him sign papers and stuff his hands full of little brown bags of pills while rambling off at which times they all should be taken, and that he should be monitored for a while and brought in for evaluation at least once a week for the next month. Steve only nods, not so much confused as overwhelmed, and for the first time in a very long while, scared.

 

Steve drives the three of them to Stark’s compound where everyone has agreed to meet and regroup. Sam has the presence of mind to alert the Avengers to the situation before they arrive, so that no one bombards Bucky. No one is really around when they get there, mostly training or napping. Bucky blindly follows Steve and Sam inside, he seems to know that he can trust them because he stays close. So close that Steve can smell him and it’s enough to kill.

 

Sam trails off to his room and Steve finds Tony at the kitchen counter, deeply enthralled in an animated story Peter is telling with wildly gesturing arms and excited hitches of breath. Tony missed the kid, blamed himself for Peter being taken, and Steve can clearly see how much of a weight that was on Tony, because he’s free now. He’s smiling again in that rare sort of Stark way.

 

Tony sees them, and Peter follows his gaze, “Hi Mr. White Wolf! Cap!” he says happily as Peter always does.

 

“Hey kid.” Steve greets in place of Bucky, who just frowns, his expression void. Steve thinks it’s good that people talk to Buck, you know- so that he knows that he was… _is_ cared for. That they all know him and he’s in familiar territory, home. Just not to himself.

 

“Last room down the hall.” Tony says, nodding to the far entrance. Steve leads Buck that way, burning to guide him by the small of his back like he used to, but he doesn’t.

 

Tony obviously had the room made up especially for Bucky’s arrival, knowing a fair amount of trauma himself and the repercussions thereof, he kept the room simple. Plain grey curtains with soft white ones underneath, bedding to match. Two empty nightstands on either side of the queen bed, a flat screen against the wall and a bookcase in the corner. The rest of the room is bare, but not so much that it would elicit loneliness. Well… Steve hopes so, since he won’t be able to stay with Buck. He won’t be able to slip into bed with him, kiss the back of his neck and breathe into his hair until he falls asleep. How can he when Bucky won’t know a single a reason for why he’s doing it?

 

“Your name is Steve, right?”  Bucky speaks suddenly, his voice hoarse and cracking from having been silent too long.

 

Steve jumps, “Uhm yes… I’m Steve Rogers.”

 

“They said I lost my memory?”

 

Steve nods, walks a little closer to where Bucky sits spiritless on the edge of the bed and sinks down next to him. Bucky watches him carefully.

 

“Yes. There was an incident. Everyone was affected differently.” he says, not sure delving into worldwide annihilation right off the bat is the best thing.

 

“And who was I?”  Bucky asks, wringing his hands together.

 

A moment of hesitation follows where Steve’s not sure what to say, but he finds his words in the hopeless, almost frightened, look on Bucks face. “James Buchanan Barnes. A soldier. We all are.”

 

Buck nods slowly, “Is that why I’m like this?” he raises the metal arm slightly, fingers curling inward.

 

“Yes. They… HYDRA, they altered you. I'm sorry.”

 

“HYDRA?” Buck frowns, “Sounds dangerous. Was I dangerous?”

 

“Look, Buck, it's been one hell of a day. I promise I'll tell you everything. I'll explain it all. But why don't you get some rest for now.”

 

There's a tired half-smile tugging at Bucky’s lip corners and he nods, looking warily at Steve. Not like he used to, but still incredibly vulnerable.

 

“I'll be right next door. I'll be right here, okay? For anything.” Steve makes a point to look at Bucky to make sure he understands. He seems to, so Steve gets up hesitantly and goes for the door.

 

“Night Buck.”

 

“Good night Steve.”

 

His heart aches at that because Bucky used to say good night in a much more endearing way. The sweet nickname Buck used to call him suddenly rings loud as gunfire in his ears. What he'd give to hear Buck say it again.

 

He hears Bucky murmur, “James Buchanan Barnes.” before he closes the door behind him.

 

 

 

He’s a fool for thinking he would ever be able to close his eyes, that he’d be able to sleep with Bucky right next door, alone and confused.  God, he just wants to make this better. He wants to give Buck himself back, everything he lost, but he learned today that there are some things not even Captain America can do, things not even his armour can protect from. His heartbreak and the lost look on Buck’s face being the foremost of those things.

 

So that’s why when he finds himself outside Bucks door, slumped on the floor, he’s not surprised in the least. It’s as close as he can be without actually being close. He is surprised, however, when Tony shuffles out of the kitchen and comes to sit down beside him. On the floor.

 

“How’s he holding up Cap?”

 

Steve doesn’t try to hide his wet eyes from Tony, “He’s confused.” He whispers because he’s trying not to let his voice break.

 

Tony leans his head back and looks at Steve, “And you?”

 

And that’s where Steve cracks open. He fails to keep it in and sobs so hard his ribs hurt. The arm Tony hooks around his shoulders to pull him in only makes it worse, “Oh Cap… goddamn Rogers.” he says, voice shaky too, and he just holds him.

 

Steve sits there against Tony’s chest, listening to the faint buzzing of the arc reactor, like a lullaby to a little kid, “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help him…”

 

“Together. We do it together. All of us.” Tony says resolutely. “He’s safe here Cap, you know, that right? We’ll all take care of him.” he squeezes Steve’s shoulder. He cries even more then, because Tony of all people has no reason to help, yet he does so abundantly.

 

There are footsteps padding toward them and he looks up to find Natasha and Sam, both in PJ’s, coming to sit with them. Steve’s not going to cry anymore. He’s really not, not even when Nat, ruffles his hair and curls up behind his shoulder, and especially not when Sam lays down in a little grumbling heap and rests his head on Steve’s lap.

 

He thinks that’s it, that he can relax now, when Peter drops in front of him, upside down, holding out a small packet of tissues. “Thought you could use this, Cap.”

 

“Jeez kid!” Steve says surprised, but he takes the tissues and smiles at Peter, who has no objection to making himself comfortable suspended from the ceiling before closing his eyes.

 

“See. Good decision.” Tony grins and he too closes his eyes beside Steve.

 

 

 

Steve wakes from the frosted glass doors to Bucky’s room, sliding open. He’s still half asleep when he looks up and sees Bucky standing there, and for a moment his brain doesn’t register anything different. Only for a moment. Then it’s back- the heaviness around his heart when Buck looks at him devoid of emotion.

 

“Uh, hi!” He scrambles up, realising he’s tangled together in a mess with the Avengers, and wakes them all up in the process. Peter drops from the ceiling with a loud thud. And then they all freeze, Bucky too.

 

“How did you sleep?” Steve asks rubbing behind his neck. He’s trying not to look at Bucky head on because if he doesn’t look, he won’t see Buck’s thin blue pajama bottoms riding inches from his hip bones, he won’t see the silver metal arm that once pinned him down so perfectly, he won’t see Buck’s hair in a goddamn bun on his head. If he doesn’t see it, maybe then he won’t break apart at the seams.

 

Bucky looks around, mildly bewildered, between the lot of them, “Fine. I slept fine, thanks… did you… Did you all sleep here??”

 

Tony swoops in and saves the moment, whisking the rest off to the kitchen, from where Steve can already smell breakfast being prepared.

 

“I’m sorry.” Steve says, finally looking at Buck. “We’re not always… they just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

 

“Are you?” Bucky looks at him tentatively, not missing the puffiness under his eyes and the black rings that have surely formed there by now. The irony isn’t lost.

 

Steve smiles, doesn’t answer. “You wanna put a shirt on and come for breakfast? I’ll introduce you to the guys again, if you want?”

 

Bucks face is still expressionless, but he pulls his mouth into a line that kind of resembles a smile and heads back into his room Steve waits in the doorway.

 

“Why’d that kid call me white wolf last night?”

 

“It was your… it’s what they called you after…”

 

Buck turns to him, “You can tell me you know. I want to know. Suppose I have to know at some point.”

 

Steve still just looks at him, and Bucky says, “That bad huh?” looking down.

 

He sighs, “It’s not all moonshine and roses Buck, no. You used to be known as the Winter Soldier. A weapon…” he breathes in deep, “An assassin.”

 

Bucky stops, his lips parting beautifully and he looks at Steve. And that’s when the first bit of emotion cracks through Buck’s eyes. Remorse.

 

“Hey,” Steve says softly, “It’s over now. You’re not him anymore, that’s why T’Challa gave you the title White Wolf instead.”

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

“It doesn’t matter Buck. It never did.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to be.” He doesn’t realise he’s taken two strides toward Bucky, only when Buck steps back, does he notice, “Sorry.”

 

Bucky regards him carefully, slips his t-shirt on and asks, “Why you?” he must see the confusion on Steve’s face, so he adds, “Why is it you and not any of them with me?”

 

 _Because I love you Buck…_ “Because we’re friends.” Steve drops his head, “Best friends.”

 

“Okay. Are they different too?” Buck motions to the arm.

 

Steve smiles, “Kind of. All in their own way. Peter, the kid, has super strength, agility, teenage hormones. Climbs walls and stuff. I have videos! I can show you later if you’d like?”

 

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

 

Before they exit the room, Bucky stops then says, “It’s not all gone you know…” and Steve short circuits, goes cold.

 

“What?!” he’s way too hopeful, he knows it. But Jesus, anything, _anything_ is better than absolutely nothing.

 

“There’s familiarity. There’s something… and I don’t know what, but I recognize the energy. The people, not at all, but it’s like I know about them. I’m familiar with how I feel around them. Like I’ve felt it before.”

 

All Steve wants to know is, ‘me too?’, but he doesn’t ask that. He’s not sure Bucky is quite ready for it. But then…

 

“You too Steve.”

 

He’s too stumped in that moment to say anything more, so he simply nods, “Breakfast?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

 

In the dining area, Nat and Sam are seated around the corner of the counter right in front of the pastry spread, their noses buried in the newspaper. Outside, on the balcony, Peter shoots webs at a few of Tony’s drones that try to dodge him while Tony looks on in amusement, cup of coffee in his hand.

 

Steve dishes for them both and sits down beside Buck, opposite Natasha and Sam. It’s silent for a little bit and while Bucky’s words mull around in Steve’s head, he notices Buck watching Natasha intently.

 

“That’s Natasha Romanoff.” Steve whispers beside Buck, shifting closer slightly so that his shoulder presses to the artificial one. He remembers that touch all too well, how it used to cool his warm skin on lazy summer days, how he used to count each metal partition from the ball of his shoulder to the tips of his fingers while Bucky slept next to him. “She was an assassin like you. She helped me find you though, when you were still… uh when, when you were still under their control. She helped Sam and I get away, so we could go after you.”

 

“An assassin…” Bucky repeats, seems sort of relieved that he’s not the only one bearing that title.

 

“Yeah. She’s one of us, like you.”

 

“She’s pretty.” He says softly, looking at Steve, not that there’s more to that statement but like he’s trying to say something else. Steve doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger, locked with Steve’s, as if the answers to all Buck’s questions are right there. It takes all of him not to kiss James fucking Barnes right there. All of him.

 

Steve, instead, says, “That she is Buck. That she is.” and carries on eating, effectively breaking their gaze.

 

“What’s the story with the kid?” he nods to the glass window where Parker hangs upside down while Tony’s testing out the new anti-gravity pads on him.

 

“Let me show you those videos.” He pulls out his phone and types Spiderman into the YouTube search bar. It’s not like he even watches, he only stares at Buck, smiling quietly at the amazement on his face at the kid’s skills. Bucky watches them all in awe.

 

“He’s amazing!” he finally exclaims after the last one.

 

“He’d really love it if you told him that, you know.” Steve cocks his head over to Peter, watching as Buck hesitantly puts his cup down, wanting to get up. “It’s okay. Go talk to him.” he’s rewarded with another tight smile that he wishes could be warm again, like ones Buck used to give him.

 

The day passes slow and lazy, and one by one each of the Avengers spend some time with Bucky. From Sam who flies the Falcon around the compound to Pete enthusiastically telling him about the fight that split the Avengers up, Steve smiles when he reassuringly tells Bucky not worry - in an innocent way only Peter has mastered – that it’s all okay now. What Peter’s most proud of (and brags about more than anything) is how he stopped Bucky’s fist mid swing. Buck doesn’t seem to understand why.

 

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Natasha says and sets her book down, guiding Bucky over to the training room. There’s a stack of concrete blocks, neatly balancing on top of one another. “Go on, break it.”

 

Buck looks at her like she’s nuts, “Break it??”

 

“With the metal arm…” she adds just to be safe.

 

He shrugs and brings up the arm in a fist, inspecting it carefully and then looking at Nat. And in the same soft way Peter did, she smiles at him and gestures to the blocks. Steve watches him pull back, not as forcefully as they’ve seen the Winter Soldier do, but still with enough precision and discipline that could only be the remnants of muscle memory. The metal crashes into the blocks, splattering it to tiny rocks and dust with little to no effort at all.

 

It’s an incredible and beautiful moment, because of both the look on Buck’s face and how his head immediately snaps to Steve. And then it happens, the smile Steve had missed so much, the one he had been waiting for since the resurrection. The perfect, perfect smile that doesn’t allow him to _not_ smile back.

 

That moment is by far the most beautiful. And maybe, just maybe, it means the start of brand new beautiful moments. Maybe it means hope.

 

 

 

Each day is similar to this one. Bucky spends a fair amount of time getting to know all the Avengers, but most of his time is spent with Steve. It consists of trips to the clinic for his check-ups then to the corner bakery to show, and have Buck taste, what used to be his favourite treats. Blueberry muffins and black coffee.

 

He takes Bucky to the museum, where their photos and backstories are displayed, it helps Buck a lot to know that he wasn't only a killer, but that at one point he also saved lives. With each passing day Steve also tells Bucky a few more details about himself, pre-brainwash and post.  

 

To most of it he takes surprisingly well and seems to enjoy the news that he's a hundred years old, makes fun of Steve for it too and they make a disgruntled Sam choose who is in better shape for their age late one night, after a long day of pure physical excersize.

 

“You have to choose Sam. It's the rules.”

 

Bucky nudges an elbow into Steve's ribs, “Rules you just made up four minutes ago.”

 

Sam glares at them in their sweat pants and boxing gloves and bare torsos.

 

“Who's it gonna be Sam?” Steve knows it's Bucky. It's always Bucky, because he's gorgeous from any angle you look- solid lines of muscle, taut, smooth skin and crystal blue eyes.

 

“Man come on. You know I got the magic right here. And I don't even got a metal arm or a little frisbee toy. These are pure power baby.” is Sam's answer as he flexes. It makes Bucky laugh in such a pure and unguarded way, Steve knows that's not a sound he'll ever forget or grow tired of.

 

There's a gradual comfort seeping into Buck's posture, his shoulders relax (as much as metal can) and he begins smiling and talking more each day. All of these moments don't pass with at least a dozen stolen glances and lingering stares, tossed back and forth between them like a ball in a Wimbledon match. And even as those become more regular and harder to ignore, Steve Rogers - Captain frikken America - can't seem to utter the words to Bucky. Can't seem to tell him that he's the reason for Steve's heartbeat, however fast or slow it may be, that this has been the case for as many years as he can remember. Even if Buck can’t.

 

“Come. I'll walk you to your room.” Steve says to Bucky, he tries not to look while Buck walks in front of him, at the rippling muscles in his back and he definitely tries not to remember how they moved when he was in a certain position under Steve. But Steve is human, kind of, and Buck's ass is still the best things he's ever seen. So, maybe he looks just a little.

 

Bucky suddenly turns. He's still damp and shiny from their workout and there's an annoying tendril of hair that escaped his short ponytail and is now dangling loosely in front of his eye, “Hey. Thanks for today.” he says and looks down, “I appreciate it.”

 

“It's nothing Buck. Anytime.” But really, it's everything and not enough all at once. If he could personally hang the stars for this man each night, he would.

 

Like every other night that Steve walks him to his room, Steve leans against the door with a stupid grin:

 

“Night Bucky.”

 

“Good night Steve.”

 

It's still not their usual good night but Buck's wearing a soft smile and his eyes never leave Steve’s, so it's good enough.

 

Steve goes to bed partly at peace that night for the first time in a very long time. He's still not able to sleep for longer than three hour stretches but instead of cold, bleak dreams filling his head for the time he is asleep, there's a lightness in his heart and mind.

 

 

 

The lightness doesn't last though. The next day Steve finally tells Bucky about the murder of Tony's parents.

 

Bucky’s staring at Steve incredulously, “He saw me do it?? His mother…”

 

“A video.”

 

He sees the wheels turning in Buck's head, and he knows Bucky is about to _lose_ it, “I gotta go… I can't, uhm…” he swallows hard, like it's painful, and stumbles off the bed where they sit.

 

Steve's up and in front of him in seconds, hands steady on his shoulders, “Buck. Hey, listen, listen. It's okay.”

 

“It's _not_ okay. It's not. I killed… oh god…” Bucky grabs his right pec, over his heart, and squeezes before he starts pulling at the neck if his t-shirt for air.

 

“Bucky. Look at me…” Bucky manages to look up, square into Steve's eyes. Begging. His metal arm curls around Steve's writs in a painful hold but Steve bites back the pain, “That's it. That's it. Now take a deep one in.” he watches Bucky try, shivering as he does so.

 

“Good. Now out. Breathe out… that’s good. You're doing good. I'm here okay? I'll never be anywhere else.” Bucky relaxes a bit and Steve pulls him closer, wraps him in a tight hug.

 

Bucky’s rigid against him, unsure, but the longer Steve holds on the more he relaxes into the embrace, and lets his arms come up around Steve's middle. “It’s okay. You're good now.” he says, rubbing soothing circles in the nape of Buck's neck. Doesn't miss how good he smells, like home and warmth. Like all the things he misses so dearly.

 

They stay like that for a while. Steve doesn’t dare move because Buck’s fingers are scratching tenderly at the small of his back as if he’s trying to ground himself there, and his breath is hot then cool on Steve’s exposed clavicle. And if he stays really still, not even breathing, he can feel Bucky’s heart thud through his chest.

 

“I need to talk to Tony.” Bucky says, making no move to pull away from Steve.

 

“No. Not now.”

 

“I do. I have to. For my own sanity.”

 

Steve sighs, finally pulling back, “Hard headed as always. Come on.” He leads Buck down to the Tony's workshop. Through the glass he can see Iron Man working on an intricate wire setup, mathematical projections cast all around him and tiny robots scampering around to bring him tools.

 

“Stark…” Steve says cautiously, knocking softly. Tony turns and seems surprised to see them.

 

“Cap. Sergeant Barnes.” he greets, wipes the grease from his hands and starts toward them. He notices how Steve keeps himself between them and stops a few feet away. Steve gives him an apologetic look that Tony acknowledges with a nod.

 

Steve starts, “Uh, Bucky wants…”

 

“Can we talk? If you're not busy.” Bucky says before Steve can finish.

 

“I'm always busy.” Tony says flatly, dropping the rag.

 

Bucky almost shrinks back, and Steve has to stop himself from growling.

 

Tony relents. “But I could use a break.” he motions for them to come inside and Steve watches his lips part as only Bucky steps in. Steve lets the door close as he steps out, but he doesn't move from there at all. And Tony gets that message loud and clear.

 

Steve watches from outside the sound proof glass doors how Buck sits down, and Tony pours them coffee then sits down too. There's a bit of conversation, mostly with Bucky looking down.  He sees the moment Buck says it. Tony stiffens, his hand curls around the mug but he lets Bucky finish. He quickly swipes at his eyes when he's done and Tony's head drops.

 

It's an acknowledgement of an apology and a kind and gentle sort of acceptance when Tony places his hand on Buck's shoulder and squeezes. Steve still inches forward at the unexpected movement, his first instinct always being to protect Bucky.

 

Steve joins them a bit later when Tony offers to do some maintenance on Buck’s arm, perhaps some improvements too. They laze around in the lab for the rest of the day, and Bucky seems quieter than usual. It’s understandable, after having gone through something as emotional as he did today, so Steve lets him be. He watches him however, while Tony’s busy making adjustments to the arm in the back, and notices Bucky rub over the amputation. A sad, lost look settles in his eyes as his fingers trace the ridges of the scar. That look makes Steve want to burn entire cities to the ground.

 

“You doing okay?”  Steve asks, leaning back against the metal table where Bucky sits. He immediately gets a smile from Buck, a genuine one that goes all the way to his blue eyes.

 

“I guess. Just weird you know.”  Buck drops his hand and nudges Steve’s shoulder before he can respond. “Hey, what did we do for fun? Before, you know, all this stuff happened.”

 

Images of tangled limbs and burning hot skin moving together, echoes of desperate moans and whispered, breathless ‘I love you’s’ renders Steve speechless for a second.

 

Bucky says, to fill the silence, “Thought we could do something, see if it’ll jog the memories somehow.”

 

Steve comes back, “Well, when I visited you while you were recovering in Wakanda, Shuri taught ‘the old men’ how to play GTA.”

 

Bucky smiles, “You say that like I should know exactly what you’re talking about.”  He seems to take immense joy in the way Steve stammers and blushes. Some things never change, do they?

 

“Ah, right!” Steve gives him an embarrassed smile, and the blush betrays him by deepening when he finds Buck looking at him, his lip between his teeth which makes it incredibly hard to function in any which way. “It’s a video game, racing cars. You know…”

 

“Were we any good?”

 

Steve laughs, “No, she kicked our asses back to the forties.”

 

“So, can we do that? Can Shuri teach me again?”

 

“Definitely.” he finally manages to look away from the beautiful smile on Buck’s face. “Stark! Can you call up Shuri’s holo? And do you have some controllers laying around?”

 

Just then Tony comes out with the upgraded arm, fits it onto Buck’s shoulder securely and explains all the new developments. A warm, comfortable feeling swirls around in Steve’s heart when Bucky tests it out and looks more than pleased with the amendments which include faster motor actions and agility enhancers.

 

“Thanks Tony…” Bucky says while flexing the new fingers.

 

“I had Sergeant Barns’ room set up with some PS4 gadgets. Shuri’s waiting for you.” Tony steps back and nods at them to go. And even if Steve knows Tony’s not looking for a thank you hug he gives him one anyway. “Okay Cap. Let’s not get mushy.” is all he says, but he grins at them as they leave his lab.

 

“Ah come on!!”

 

“Look Buck! Even the ghost girl is better at this than you are!” Steve's Ferrari does an impressive drift around a bend after Shuri, leaving Buck's Lambo in its wake.

 

“My apologies Bucky, Captain, it is not within my nature to lose.” Shuri turns and smiles at them as her avatar glides over the finish line, “However, my brother is being pesky, and I will have to leave my victory for another day.”

 

King T’challa’s head glitches into Shuri’s hollow, smile bright and wonderful, “Sergeant Barnes! Good to see you are making yet another successful recovery!”

 

Steve, knowing Buck has no idea who T’challa is, chips in, “Thank you, your highness. He's making great progress.” He watches Bucky’s eyes grow wide and he starts flailing, takes a bow in a seated position, because he's adorable.

 

“Good to hear Captain. Your home here at Wakanda is always ready for you, should you wish to return Sergeant Barnes.”

 

“Thank you, uh sir. Your highness” Bucky mutters beside Steve before Shuri and T’challa bid them goodbye and disappear.

 

Bucky and Steve are left sitting with their thighs and arms pressed together in the middle of the bed, and once again neither make a move to change that. Steve doesn’t know if it’s habit, the midnight hour or the tiredness that makes him do it, but he starts playing with Bucky’s fingers while they both sit with their heads tipped back, staring at the roof.

 

“This something else we used to do too?” Buck asks while he lets his fingers slide open to let Steve’s in between.

 

The warmth and comfort of the touch has Steve half asleep and he’s too drowsy to worry about a response, so he just hums quietly, feeling Bucky’s fingers tighten securely around his hand before he drops off to sleep.

 

Usually, when Steve dreams, it’s inconsistent and confusing and sometimes scary. But tonight, with the guy he love’s hand in his, it’s easy and peaceful. It’s him and Buck back in Wakanda during one of his visits. They’re playing football on the large open stretches of grass and even with only one arm Buck makes him look like an amateur. He tackles Buck to the floor, but the momentum rolls them over so Buck’s on top of him, his eyes only a shade darker than the sky above them, and his lips impossibly pretty, “Losing your edge Captain” he teases before kissing Steve. And as dreams go they’re suddenly in Bucks living quarters, and his lips are all over Steve’s body and the stupid dingy of a bed squeaks incessantly as Bucky fucks him on in.

 

Steve wakes with a cold sweat just before he comes in his dream, breathing fast and his t-shirt clinging to his chest. And thank God for waking up because Buck's turned on his side, staring at him.

 

“Bad dream?”

 

“Uh, yeah…” he lies, because what's he supposed to tell him? That he almost creamed up dreaming about Buck's mouth on his body?

 

“I have them too sometimes. But then there's you.” Bucky says so soft, voice sleepy and cracking. And it's like he just realised what he said because his eyes jolt open meeting Steve's wide blue ones.

 

Incredulously he asks, “Me? You dream of me?”

 

Bucky’s mouth twitches into a smile, “There's darkness and screaming and flashing lights, sometimes blood. None of it makes any sense… and then, amidst all that there's you.”

 

Christ. Steve cannot for the life of him draw air into his lungs.  This is something right?? This must mean something, maybe not that he remembers but that he at least feels a connection too.

 

“Do I make sense?”

 

“More than anything.” Bucky seems more awake now and Steve's grateful because his heart wouldn't hold up if this was simply sleep dazed babble.

 

In fact, Steve's not sure he'll hold up anyway, not with Bucky looking at him like this, not when he so close Steve can almost taste him. God, his lips are so full and pink, and he looks so impossibly soft like this. Steve misses kissing those lips, misses how they envelop his mouth in nothing but love.

 

“I should get to bed…” he says before any of those thoughts transpire. It could totally be his imagination, but Bucky looks almost disappointed as he shrugs the blanket off and gets up with Steve.  

 

Just like every other night they stand in the doorway and Steve has that stupid grin on his face again, seems to have become contagious since Buck's kind of matches his own.

 

“I had fun today.” Bucky says, inching a fraction closer and Steve gets flustered like he always does when he's anywhere near Bucky Barnes, knows he's gone irreparably red in his face. Also knows that Bucky was deeply in love with that blush.

 

He spins around quickly, before Bucky notices.

 

“Night Buck!” he yelps, and it makes Bucky laugh quietly.

 

“Night babydoll.”

 

Bucky freezes and Steve becomes unsteady on his own feet the instant the words leave Bucky’s mouth. His entire world grinds to a halt. Those are the words. Those are exactly the words Steve has been longing to hear, he'd almost forgotten how they sound but hearing Bucky’s voice say that shoots tears straight to Steve's eyes. He sucks a lip into his mouth and bites down, willing himself not to break.

 

“You… do you remember??” he asks, turning back to look at Bucky, his voice high and hopeful.

 

“No…” But by the look on Buck's face he knows something just happened. He shakes his head, “I'm sorry… I don't know why I said that. I just…”

 

Steve raises a hand to stop him, “Don't be sorry… It's… You used to call me that.”

 

Bucky surprises him by saying, “Sounds right that I would have…” while his eyes dart meaningfully over Steve’s face, and then he comes closer, brings his cold metal fingers up to Steve's trembling jaw, “Steve?”

 

When he speaks, his voice is brittle and small, “Buck…”  

 

“Steve is this… were we…” his fingers smooth over Steve's lips, eyes fixed on the movement.

 

He can't manage anything more than a breath, “Yeah…” he lets his eyes fall shut and a few hot tears tumble down.

 

“Babydoll.” Bucky tests the word and he tilts his head to the side, tracing another burning trail over Steve's lips like he's seeing them for the first time, “I can see why. I don't know what it is about you Steve, can't put my finger on it but since I saw you I don't wanna look at anything else.”

 

“Buck…” he shakes his head, feeling so stupid for crying, “Buck, please…”

 

“Did you love me?”

 

Steve sighs, “I never stopped.”

 

“I can feel that.” Bucky’s hand comes up around Steve’s neck. The feeling is both familiar and foreign at the same time. Buck’s looking at him with a softness in his eyes before he pushes up slightly.

 

Steve only catches a glimpse of the inviting pink pout of Bucky’s lips before they’re on his, and Steve can’t help but sob faintly at the touch. “Bucky…” he whimpers before Buck seals their lips, soft yet solidly.

 

There is a distant buzz at the end of the hallway that Steve recognizes as one of Stark’s camera’s switching off, but he’s too entrapped in this kiss to care. He realises that he hasn’t moved at all, so he does. But he just melts around Bucky. Drinking up the lips that has been his sustenance for the longest time, that he’s been deprived of for what feels even longer.

 

“I hate that I can’t remember this, or you...” Bucky breathes against Steve’s wet lips when he breaks away for air.

 

“I’m sorry…” Steve realises how strange all of this must be for Bucky, he’s pretty much still a stranger to himself. What the fuck is Steve thinking kissing him?!

 

Buck clips him off, “But I want it. I want this… Want you.” His metal thumb is cool and gentle against Steve’s burning cheek, a contrast to the warm hand on his hip. At those words, Steve’s face scrunches up and he cries fully. He wraps himself around Bucky so tight, thankful for the Winter Soldier’s endurance because he squeezes pretty hard.

 

“I’ve missed you so much.”  He knows Bucky can’t really say that back, he doesn’t expect him too but when he pulls back and opens his eyes, Bucky’s smiling at him. And that’s enough.

 

 

 

Later they’re curled together on Steve’s bed in their pajama bottoms, having done nothing more than explore the planes of each other’s bodies thoroughly with their lips, kissed until their breathes ran short and laughed like nothing was ever stolen from them. Because together they’re whole.

 

They’ll start over. Steve will love him all the way from the beginning again. He’ll do that a million lifetimes over and over, for his guy. His only guy.

 

Steve’s curled up in the bend of Bucky’s metal arm, familiar and happy with his preference for which way Bucky holds him. Tender metal is a thing, apparently.

 

He curls some of Bucky’s loose hair around his fingers, and after a long peaceful silence asks, “You think people can fall in love with each other twice in one lifetime?”

 

Bucky leans into Steve, kisses his forehead before pulling him closer.

 

“I think twice is not nearly enough babydoll.”

 

 

 


End file.
